Riddle Me This Time
by Ebony'Wingz
Summary: The runaway child of a 'Professional' Stripper, and as muggle as they get to boot, it's really a wonder how the hell she ended up in possession of a time turner in the first place! Time turner fic. Rating may change in later chapters.


**Disclaimer: I erm... I disclaim the fictional world of Harry Potter...? It doesn't belong to me! I am not worthy! *runs off crying***

 **(A/N found at bottom)**

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 **Chapter one**

 _(June 5th 2015)_

 _They were admirable_ , she thought, glancing at the couple. The man was everything that she had wished to be able to find and one day lose _herself_ in the beautiful golden hazelnut of his irises; the girl, not more than sixteen, peacefully rocking on the opposite swing, cosily wrapped in a light pink jumper and some jeans, _actually_ lost in the deep pools of his enchanting eyes. They sat comfortably on the rusty, park swing that creepily stood alone under the crumbling structure of a moss-infested stone bridge. At least here the couple didn't need to have a complicated story; they just _loved_.

That's what she hoped to get across anyway. Painting in colour was always one of her struggles and for some reason she could never really get noses right either.

Three repetitive beeps angered her ears and the silence of the abandoned bridge's ever-present tranquillity. It was her phone, buried under a pile of spare clothes, a single canvas, empty tubes of paint that spanned a whole multitude of colours in the colour spectrum, a broken plastic pallet, three blunt pencils, a leaking blue pen and a half-empty water bottle. It was a big bag.

 _"It's been five days."_

Sighing, she began to really regret answering without checking who it was.

Yes, it _had_ been five days and that's all it really took for her to find herself… in big trouble, that is. She had just turned sixteen and left home to 'find' herself. True, she did find that she was an a brilliant artist, could spot a man trying to roofie a girl's drink at a bar with her eyes closed, knew how to earn a few days at a shifty hostel run by a white middle-aged, smelly man without having to pay a single penny (or anything _else_ ) but that was just about it! And she learnt all that by day three of five. Now, she had painted just about everything remotely pretty that the run down town could offer her, the weird guy at the bar was beginning to lose interest in the _legal_ girls and was now shifting his sights to the _barely_ legal, and if she saw another bloody cockroach in her shower again—

She sighed. "I'm low on money. Send me some."

See, she knew a pause over the phone could mean anything. For all she knew, her mother was _finally_ having a long overdue heart attack but she didn't have that much faith in the Lord. It would make more sense to her if she slipped over one of her _many_ cheap bottles of wine that were casually rolling about on the floor, that the woman had purchased from one of the many Pound World's or 99 Pence shops that aligned like a well prepared army, spanning the entirety of the street across from their two bedroom, rented flat.

The flat, where she had spent most of her childhood sleeping on the small balcony outside of their kitchen, behind the never-on fridge, because their neighbours were always having extremely loud sex and banging up her bedroom wall (pun definitely intended) and her mother, always the one with a great party ethic, would 'host' a wild, Friday night party for all her 'co-workers' at the Strip Club (ingeniously named: Strippers Elite _—_ where your stripper fantasies are _ahh-_ lite) on the roof of the building because, for some reason, flashing cleavage at the landlord earns you the keys to the exclusive roof and _his room._

 _"Didn't you—"_

"Show the guy my cleavage? Yeah, did that. Didn't get the roof though, I got the basement as well as his room key." She moved her bag to her shoulder and the light tinkling of metal in her pocket served as a reminder of how true her last sentence was. "I think he's into all that kinky stuff and shit."

 _"That's gr—"_

"Oh give me some money already, _Mum_. I can't stand it here. He's becoming," pursing her lips and pinching the bridge of her nose, she tried desperately not to scream at the incorrigible woman. " _Hands-y,"_ she finished.

She registered the small corner shop that she had passed to get to the bridge, carefully considering if it was in her best interests to buy a Pot Noodle here with the small amount of change left for a meagre dinner and use the surprisingly free hot water at the hostel to cook it.

It was your typical corner shop with its windows plastered with several bright neon green, orange and pink signs, one of which was falsely advertising for extra help with 'great pay'. Another sign was begging for a teenager in desperate need for money, to help with the paper rounds. A warning that only one child should be allowed in the shop at all times took over the pink sign in huge, illegible bubble writing and an offer of _two for the price of one snickers bar_ , all of which were surrounded by spikey star-like boarders drawn on with a dark blue sharpie.

 _"Isn't that the_ point _? I mean, if the hands come out—well,"_ she cackled _. "Vixi, darling, you've seen some of my home films. You know_ what comes _afterwards."_ God, she could almost _feel_ the nicotine and tobacco-stained grin that her mother was sending her. _Vixi_ , real name Ma _vis,_ couldn't stop the shiver at what her mother's words had implied. Would he really want to… no, of course not. Her mother was insane.

"Are you going to send me money then? I'm really struggling here." Her palm immediately found its way to her glistening forehead repeatedly, astonished that she would resort to begging so quickly— to a stripper no less! A stripper who had a self-written 'guide' on how to please a man based on his beard-type and who, by choice, will sleep with any man who pays her more than £350 in the Champaign Room. Thinking back, the woman was more of a freelance prostitute than a stripper or a mother.

 _"£15 should last long enough for dinner and then a bus ticket home, Vixi. I'll put it on your card. Oh, Mummy's got a customer! See you tomorrow love."_

Sickened, Mavis dropped her phone into the bag, gladly taking the reprieve from her unbearable Child-mum and her 'lifestyle'. You should know that it wasn't her job choice that sickened her per se, it was the fact that she turned down a perfectly respectable job as an accountant in London to become a stripper in Yorkshire!

Yeah, her mum was dumb-smart, the worst kind of smart you could be.

She sighed as she glanced at the flickering OPEN sign that rested just above the counter where the monobrow on the obese and snoring shopkeeper seemed to be waging its chances of a successful escape attempt, failed to invite her in, however, and she continued on her way to the hostel, all the way grumbling about how the shop could use one of her mother's 'customers' and how she was a no good, stupid, old, piece of—

Being honest, she felt the blunt object collide with her head before she saw it entangle itself in her knotted hair. Oh, and before the deafening wind crashed and smashed against her limp body, and the relentless tick, tock of an unseen clock haunted her ears, she saw the mischievous glimmer of gold and the calming pearly white sand.

Then, there was nothing and that nothingness consumed her.

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 **Hi everyone! I know it's been a long time, but I've been dealing with bloody GCSE's right now and I'm finding it ever so hard to find time to fit writing fanfiction between Art coursework, French, Geography and all my other subjects! So, here's the deal: if you pester me enough in the review section I'll listen and I'll post another chapter as quickly as humanly possible for someone like me :D Fair enough?**

 **Right, so I have a plan for this fic, but it's still fresh and waiting to be improved so this story is as new and exciting territory to me as it is to you. So I guess we're on the same Hogwarts boat guys, YAY! High Five!**

 **Next chapter our new friend Mavis is about to meet somebody that may surprise you... comment in the review section who you think it is and I'll give you this delicious virtual cookie (::) - (seriously delicious, trust me :D) if you get it right!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Ebony W.**

 **PS: Also, note that I tend to write in really long and sometimes confusing sentences so ask if you don't understand something, please. I'll always answer a review even if its from a guest!**

 ** _Flame, review, criticise... do as you please. :)_**


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